I don't own White Collar or the characters... blah...blah...blah... Please be kind...re[view]...
A/N: HeHeHe... I couldn't help myself :-D I hope you guys bare with me, I think you'll enjoy it. And yes, I am caught up in my own little world, where all my stories are linked together...
Chapter One
Neal Caffrey, convicted felon turned FBI consultant, rode the elevator up to the 21st floor of the Federal building in silence. His partner, Special Agent Peter Burke, had been cryptic on the phone; not usually a good sign. Peter was only that cagey about something when he knew Neal wouldn't want to go along with whatever he was planning, and the fact that they had been called in to work on a Saturday, concerned Neal even more. Neal leaned against the back of the elevator and stuffed his hands down into the front pockets of his jeans. Peter had warned him not to dress in his usual suit and tie. He was sure that Peter was up to something, but try as he might, he couldn't figure out what.
Neal wasn't supposed to have been back to work officially until Monday, when his version of Administrative Leave was over. It had been more like house arrest, when the Marshals had adjusted his normal 2-mile radius down to only about two blocks. Dr. Matthews had given him a clean bill of health the day before. The cracked ribs he had gotten from a pounding he had taken on his last case were just about healed, and he was feeling like himself for the first time in a long time. He had to admit it would be good to be back to work.
As the elevator doors slowly slid open, he was face to face with Peter, who stepped into the elevator, playfully slapping a case folder against his chest before handing it over. There was a mischievous sparkle in Peter's eyes that made Neal uneasy as he turned his attention to the file.
"Insurance Fraud." Neal let the disdain in his voice be apparent, as he rolled his eyes. "This is what was so important, we had to come in on a Saturday."
"Not just any Insurance Fraud." The giddiness in Peter's voice had Neal shooting him a sidelong glance.
"A horse? You've go to be kidding me." Neal read where Peter was pointing.
"Not just any horse. Starward Gaze is insured for $500,000."